


I Thought Imaginary Friends Go Away Once You Reach 9?

by motoroilfreeway



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hauntings, Horror, M/M, ghost!levi, mentions of eating disorders, minor charater death(s), paranormal expert/enthusiast!armin, previously called "The Corporal", sorry I changed the title and summary I just rly hated it, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:37:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motoroilfreeway/pseuds/motoroilfreeway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, they do. It just happens that yours is not. And it looks like its not going anywhere.</p><p>(or that one au where Eren is getting stalked by a ghost who might've been a lover from a past life and it doesn't seem to want to move on and leave him alone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Welcome to Nightvale's episode about the faceless old woman. If I'm not listening to that on my way back home I wouldn't be writing this now, do I .  
> Cheers for Res_CVX for taking the time for thoroughly checking this part for errors and stuff. You guys owe her the rest of this fic.

On the 25th of March, Carla gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

She decided to name him Eren---for some reason the name just suddenly came up to her head, like some sort of a whisper of the wind---on the day of the baby shower when the guests asked eagerly about the soon-to-be-born baby boy’s name.

Eren, the name failed to ring a bell and she never heard of the word before but that’s what came out of her mouth that day instead of the name she chose for her son.  She could have corrected everyone at the party, but thinking about it, “Eren,” Carla remembered whispering the name to hear it roll out of her mouth the second time, maybe she’ll call him Eren from now on. She doubts Grisha would disagree; her husband already assured her that the child’s name is up to her.

Luckily for the couple, Eren grew up just fine with little to no problems in walking, talking, and understanding the things around him that started piquing his curiosity the more coherent he spoke.

Well, everything was fine was what they thought until Eren had an imaginary friend.

Eren was two when he started talking by himself whenever he was left alone or playing. They would usually hear him say a word the couple presumed to be _corporal_ \---a word that took them days in deciphering from little Eren’s still underdeveloped speech--- which the Jaeger couple found strange, no one taught him that word. Carla was sure because she never allowed her son near the television unless she can supervise, and she’s the only one other than her husband who takes care of Eren, and none of them can see any explanation how their son knew such word from.

Eren, at age four, is as energetic as ever, and now that he was old enough, they enrolled him to a preschool a 10-minute car ride away from home. Some weeks after Eren’s admission, the preschool called and asked her to come to the school at once.

Carla was taken back to find out that apparently, Eren was caught talking to his classmates. The problem being Eren’s choice in vocabulary, so bad that their assigned teacher can’t help herself but gape at the boy as he went and talked about his imaginary adventure as a superhero fighting evil giants, a disturbing choice of adjectives thrown left and right every once in a while.

When confronted---most especially about where and whom did he learn these from from an enraged Carla---Eren, in tears, told them that that is how the corporal told him he was like before.

The boy’s response raised questions not only from Carla but also from the teachers involved in Eren’s little incident. None of the teachers managed to name this man Eren talks about, much to Carla’s despair---although she remembered Eren say “corporal” a few years ago when he started talking.

Everyone soon concluded that this coporal was Eren’s some sort of an imaginary friend. Despite the ongoing mystery behind Eren’s appaling choice of words, the school let the problem slide with Eren swearing to never speak of the words again.

At age 7, Eren came home from school proudly showing Carla his drawing of the corporal---which  may grow into a problem if Eren has not gotten over having imaginary friends at his age---a man wearing some sort of a tie, knee-high boots, and belts---which she was sure are belts upon seeing her boy play with their belts and tie it around his limbs in a way similar to his drawings, saying that he wants to know what it feels like to be the corporal. The corporal’s clothing are not commonly worn, not  in a fashion like this, anyway and she continues to wonder where and how did Eren came up with these for a friend. She poured her questions to the thought that kids are highly imaginative, because Grisha, for a doctor, cannot give a logical explanation himself about their child’s behaviour and told her to wait it out and bring him to a specialist if he were not to grow this behaviour out.

Eren was nine when they finally took action and had Eren checked. Sessions later, they never heard a word about a short, scowling man in belts and leather boots who complains about cleanliness and carries an appalling vocabulary.

Or so they thought.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter: The Paranormal Investigations Club!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Res_CVX betaing the first part. Any errors on the last one are all mine.  
> And wowwowow?? I updated something within 10 days??? ME??? HOW???  
> OH WAIT ITS CHRISTMAS. RIGHT. What does have to do with me updating something

A sheet of paper was casually slid onto Eren’s table.

Eren paused at nibbling his sandwich to glance at whoever was responsible—-Armin—-who was peering at him with a friendly grin plastered on his face.

Eren looked at the paper again, sandwich still half-bitten in his mouth, and raised a thick eyebrow at the content before completely biting a piece of his sandwich, and opened his mouth to speak. “Paranormal investigations club membership form…?” he asked, turning to look at Armin in the eye.

“Yep,” Armin replied cheerfully as he nodded and stared back at him. This made Eren gulp; the piece he had bit off from the sandwich earlier that wasn’t properly chewed made it harder for his throat to swallow and almost clogged his pharynx.

“Why?”

At this, Armin moved to sit next to him. Eren moved to the side to give Armin more space to sit on. He was still looking at Armin.

“Because it’s fun!”

“Uh….no.”

“But Eren!” Armin whined, frowning at him while tugging at his free hand that was not holding his unattended, half-eaten sandwich.

Armin was a member—er, President—- of the Paranormal Investigations Club. Eren knew his friend’s interest in things that could not be explained by science like ghosts and monsters ever since they were children. He remembered the time they almost got suspended in elementary school for sneaking into their school one night. In Eren’s defense though, he had been trying to convince Armin that sneaking into the school at night is not a good idea, and oh _boy, ain’t he right_.

It’s not like he had anything against Armin’s choice of hobbies—-he really didn’t—-it’s just that for the longest time since he knew the blond, all that “paranormal” stuff had done nothing but cause them trouble. At least now, it has been slightly lessened because of Mikasa.

To be honest, he didn’t really mind joining Armin’s club just to make the other happy.

There’s just something off with the proposal. They already spent the half of their term and Armin chose this time to convince him to join? Why not the first weeks of the term when the clubs were actively seeking members?

After a while when Armin decided that he wouldn’t get anything close to “yes,” from him, he stopped, sat up properly next to Eren, head facing straight ahead with serious eyes.

“We need your house for our next episode.”

“Huh,” was Eren’s response.

Armin turned towards him again, grabbed his shoulders, and resorted to shaking him this time.

“Come on, Eren! Aunt Carla and Uncle Grisha left for their anniversary yesterday, and they’ll be out for a week, right? Your house is spacious; I got pics of some orbs dwelling there before and some cold spots, Eren! We promise to not touch anything; we’ll even hangout in your room instead so we could keep the mess—-if there’s anything—to a minimum! You can even follow us wherever we go! And, and, we’ll keep your identity secret, if that’s what you’re worried about! Also there’s this—-”

Eren shoved his sandwich into Armin’s mouth.

Armin almost choked. He managed to pull the sandwich out immediately, and drank from the bottle of juice Eren handed him afterwards. He coughed a bit though, and Eren patted his back in apology as he mumbled something that made Armin think a piece of the sandwich must have gotten up to clog his ears—he’s not that sure if it’s possible, studying the human body is not really something he found interesting. He would if they’re dead, without a physical form, though he doubted his biology teacher, or anyone for that matter, would give him a proper answer if he dare ask them out of curiosity—-he looked up at Eren to ask—-

“Wait, what?”

“I said, okay, sure, whatever; just make sure your guys won’t touch a thing and run around the house without me in sight. Mom will have my head if she notices something off…”

Eren almost choked when Armin moved to trap him in the tightest hug he’d ever received (from Armin, anyway because Mikasa always wanted to choke Eren whenever she hugged him).

“Oh, and Jean’s coming too.” Armin told him like how someone would talk about the weather.

“Do I want to know  _why_  you felt have the need to tell me that?” Eren asked, his face darkening and his features soured. Just thinking about that horse-face never failed to ruin his day. Now he even lost his appetite (maybe Armin was to blame, but they are talking about  _Jean_  right now, so he’ll go with that).

“You’d rather not, actually.” Armin gave him _that_ smile again. That smile that Armin did whenever Jean walks their way; that smile that Armin did whenever he and Jean are about to start another brawl but stopped by a hair’s width; that smile that Armin did whenever he talked about things about Jean that is directly for him. Just seeing Armin smile like that at him like Armin knew something he didn’t was making Eren want to stand up from their seat right now to go find a certain someone and break his nose.

He didn’t though, because the bell rang, signaling the students that break time was over and it’s time to get back to class.

Eren groaned and Armin smiled as he moved to stand before Eren, extending his arm towards him. Eren moved to grab the arm, assuming that Armin intended to help him up only to look up at Armin’s face in confusion when the blond started moving their joined hands up and down. A businessman-like smile plastered on his youthful face.

“It is nice making business with you, Mr. Jaeger. I am looking forward for more to come in the near future.”

With that Armin turned away from him and walked out of the mess hall.

Eren swore; looks like he’s about to skip.

—-

It was Friday when the club came into an agreement with Eren that they will spend the night at Eren’s house—-in Eren’s room, of course—-maybe shoot a bit for their episode, and do the rest the next day ‘till 5-6 in the afternoon.

The Paranormal Investigators Club is composed of Armin, Jean, Mina, Ymir, Thomas, Sasha, Connie, Reiner, and Millius. He knew them all, especially Jean and Sasha and Connie—-he started thinking the latter two as one entity because he never saw these two apart except when one of them is in the toilet—- the rest are by names, and he heard all about them from Armin and through their club’s paranormal study videos uploaded onto their official website which gets a new episode every two weeks.

Mikasa, Krista, Annie, and Bertholdt were staying over too. Mikasa, because she said she felt “left out” with Eren and Armin having a sleepover (“We are not having a _sleepover_ , Mikasa!”) and not inviting her over (so she invited herself in, came earlier than the others, brought her own blankets, pillows, change of clothes, and everything else one would need at a sleepover). The other three came because their parents told them to keep an eye on their friends, who happened to be members of said club.

Eren had a hard time dealing with the other three, because this was the first time they were meeting, and also maybe because he felt like he needed to sleep with one eye open tonight.

Annie was the quiet type, who simply spoke a stiff, curt “Annie,” with a quick raise of one of her hands out of her hoodie’s jacket in some sort of a wave, before putting her hand back in. She always looked bored, and the pale shade of her blue eyes matched with her half lidded eyes to form a bored stare that crept Eren out. She also looked like she’s hiding something big inside her loose hoodie—-like some buff figure like Mikasa’s. He had been exposed enough to Mikasa and her weight lifting and kick-boxing to know their types.

Bertholdt was the tall, dark haired, lanky guy who introduced himself as “Bertholdt. You can call me Bert, if you want…” before scratching the back of his head. He was sweating a lot despite the cold, and told him that he came with Reiner and Annie. Together they make a weird bunch, but it’s not like Eren had the right to say that with his friendship with Mikasa and Armin now, does he?

Krista was the short, blonde, petite girl whose smiles and personality can make men like Reiner say “Marry me,“ or “Just marry me already,” because even he cannot deny that Krista is a keeper. He couldn’t approach her properly, because he always felt daggers being thrown in his way in the form of Ymir’s sharp stares whenever he talked or merely looked at Krista’s way.

He was also warned to keep an eyeful watch on Sasha. If she vanished from your line of vision or from Connie’s side, there’s a 100% chance that she had ran off to find your kitchen, and be ready to kiss your food supplies goodbye—-Eren was aware that Sasha is also called Potato Girl by his batch mates because on the first day of their freshman year, Sasha was punished to run around the tracks throughout their gym period that day for sneaking and stealing freshly steamed potatoes from the school’s cafeteria and eating it in Mr. Shadis’s, their gym teacher’s, class. Sasha ate anything, someone from their group told him. He made sure to write that in his mental notes.

Since Eren’s room was not enough to accommodate them all—-and Eren needed to keep an eye on them, just like what they agreed on—-they decided to sleep in the Jaeger house’s (more like a mansion, Sasha said) living room.

Before changing into their sleep wears and calling it a night, everyone decided—-Eren and the other four simply observed—-that they should start shooting some scenes for their episode, remembering some of their subscribers complaining that doing a paranormal investigation by day is not really a good recommendation, since they believed that ghosts are mostly active at night. It also emits a scary vibe, someone said.

For a club with members of only 9, they sure do have the equipment.

That’s how he found out that it’s all on Armin,  _again_. Of course, it’s Armin; what else is there for Eren to expect. Armin would just click, click, and click in the computer and type in their bank account to get the things he needed, no matter how expensive they were. His parents could afford them. The expenses barely made a dent in his family’s savings, and his parents never gave a fuck on what their son does with their money, as long as they hear from Armin’s grandpa that he is doing well.

Armin’s parents were busy all the time, travelling the world because that’s what their job demands, leaving Armin to grow up under his grandpa’s care. Armin was a smart kid, and he understood at a young age that his parents were simply doing their duties as parents to work and provide Armin the things he needed—-that’s what Armin told him years ago when they were younger when Eren almost exploded when he found out that Armin’s parents “don’t care about him”.

Eren talked to Armin’s parents from time to time through Skype whenever he visited Armin and he happened to be talking to Mr. and Mrs. Arlert. They were good people, Eren supposed.

He had never seen their equipments up close before, so he can’t help himself as he felt his eyes fall into the foreign-and- _expensive_ -looking gadgets they carefully take out of its containers as Armin takes out a small sheet of paper and reads the names of the equipment. Expect nothing less from Armin to keep a log of their equipments before and after each use.

They started setting their video cameras in the living room—-they cleared out their things—-and started with Armin, the club’s President, doing a quick introduction about what their latest “expedition” is all about.

The other members were responsible for handling a specific type of equipment they use in gathering data and reading the area.

Connie usually handled one of the video cameras, but he occasionally switches with Sasha’s DVP whenever Sasha grabs a snack. She just chews too loud and it makes it hard for them to review the recordings afterwards.

Armin handles one of the DVPs and a DSLR camera, Jean is their skeptic and also stands the keeper of their spare batteries. Reiner and Ymir handles the last two video cameras while Thomas, Mina, and Millius handles the IR, EMF, and another one of their DSLRs.

They would usually split into two or three groups and roam the area but since Eren only agreed under the condition that he supervised them, the nine of them settled to using only one of each piece of equipment, and the tasks were divided unequally: “as long as you can handle using them at the same time, you do it” and the rest settled to taking notes and observe their surroundings depending on their five senses.

They took a lot of pictures, measured the base temperatures of each room they were going (allowed) to observe, and took a few samples of audio recordings. They planned to review them all after they were done with the entire search and called it a night.

\---

Eren and Mikasa had to get up as early as 6 am to help Armin prepare breakfast for their guests.

They are woken up one by one, Sasha and Connie surprisingly (in Eren’s opinion, anyway) the ones who rose immediately after being awoken and helped in tugging the others awake and were forced to go help in preparing.

Eren never thought their table for twelve would finally be filled to the point Eren had to pull another chair for himself.

They ate their breakfast in silence; their dishes were brought to the sink one by one before they shared duties in cleaning the table and taking care of the dishes.

It was already 9 when the team decided they resume their filming and officially start the hunt.

They stuck to the same rule they had last night and Armin carried the EMF, DVR, and the thermal scanner. The DSLR was given to Mina because they need as many shots as they can this time; Eren’s house is just that big and spacious to not see orbs dwelling somewhere.

This time, they conducted things more thoroughly. They made sure to take a shot of every nook and cranny of everything they are allowed to explore.

They almost squealed in excitement---mostly Sasha, Connie and Ymir are whooping in amusement---when the door to Eren’s room closed, only to “aw” in disappointment when it was just the wind, after Jean’s unbiased skepticism and a strong gust of wind blowing at their faces the moment they reopened the door.

Other than that, the shoot went smoothly and within an hour or so, they had the equipments back in their places and had their laptops set up reviewing the data they’ve gathered. The editing will come later because they have the cameras rolling during the reviews; it’s a part of their show.

Everyone---specially Armin---were saddened to find that there are not even a speck of white or colored bright little spot anywhere in everything they took in the house. Armin swore he took a lot once, when he first used his new DSLR one time he went to Eren’s; he even gladly showed everyone the picture he took and compared the pictures of the spot they took now.

The thermal scan and EMF are useless in summary because they got nothing but glitches and their batteries---even the spares---are immediately drained, to their surprise and suspicion. They decided to investigate on the power drainage later after they are done scanning their recordings.

The recordings, to their happiness, caught something.

Thomas was just half-assedly fiddling with the device---rewind then play, fast forward, roll the recording a bit slower----when they heard it.

The recording was so sudden, Thomas had to call Ymir and ask her to try and see if she hears something coherent.

Ymir did and they called the others; their only camera rolling turned and ran to them from the rest who were discussing heatedly about their theories on how their batteries died faster than usual.

They ran the part where Thomas and Ymir swore they heard something over and over; sometimes slowing the speed. Everyone---including Eren and the other three---watched in silence as Mina rewind and unrewind the DVR.

Then they all heard it.

_-ack—_

It sounded like a last syllable of a word before it was completely taken over by the static.

They are close now. They can’t let this go. Not now that they got a potential EVP for the first time they started hunting.

They replayed the whole part. Over and over, trying to get a glimpse of what that syllable means or where it was from.

To their amused bewilderment, it sounded like someone is saying “fuck”.

It was weird but that is what everyone agreed they heard no matter how many times they replay the recording.

Even Jean got nothing to say as their skeptic, because they all swore that no one would swear during filming; they’re trying to keep it PG, no matter how ridiculous that notion is.

Curious---the four included---as to why this ghost would say such words, they checked the question being asked before its answer.

“Care to explain why you would choose to dwell here?”

A proper question, but listening closely they hear whispers overlapping: “What’s a ghost’s favorite drink?”

“What?”

“Boos.” Then was followed by a soft snigger before the reply with a word “fuck” came.

“Who said that?” someone in their group asked after listening but received nothing but embarrassed laughs and shaking shoulders.

“So the ghost listened to _that_ instead of Reiner’s question,”

“What the fuck, man.”

“Wait!”

Armin replayed a part of the recording a few seconds before the word “fuck” comes.

They got more.

“Woah, good job, Armin!” Armin cried as Connie gave him three strong pats to the back.

“ _What the fuck_ ” is what the DVR caught after a lot of time listening into it.

The voice was somehow deep, and it was clear enough that none of them could have faked something like this; everyone swore to honesty, they are as surprised as anyone else right now.

They eagerly scanned the rest of the recordings, but got nothing. They had no time to feel disappointed this time with the recording they got though.

The episode was ended after that, everyone cheered and happily congratulated each other for the job well done. All thanks to Eren and his house, they said.

They left the Jaeger house dreaming about higher hits and subscribers by the time they have their episode uploaded.

Due to their excitement they forgot about the drained batteries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, for those who had no idea how these things work, what Armin’s club did was what we usually call ghost hunting, only this time they had it filmed for people to see.
> 
> The idea about the Paranormal Investigations Club is based on this club my lab mate tried to get me to join with my friend. It’s his roommate’s idea and they need at least 4 more people to join to make a request to get it legalized in my university. I didn’t join because we know what happens to people who like to poke these things with very long sticks, right? Yep. Spoilers, wow. Sorry. The thing with the site is also based from that org. I don’t think they made it, I never heard any orientations about it afterwards.
> 
> Also for those who don’t know, **DVR = Digital Voice Recorder**
> 
>  
> 
> **DSLR = are those big cameras with detachable flashes and ultra high quality stuff photographers usually use. And they are hella expensive. My friend bought one because her course demands it and I cried when she showed me the receipt. I’m happy with my digicam, thanks.**
> 
>  
> 
> **EVP = Electronic Voice Phenomena. Those are recordings you got from ghosts. Investigators usually ask questions and pause for at least 15-30 seconds for the ghost to give their replies.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Thermal Scanners = to measure the temps (duh). Ehhh its because they believe ghosts/entities leave temps too so yea. I’m not really sure on how I’m supposed to explain this one…**
> 
>  
> 
> **EMF = Electro Magnetic Field Meters. They are those stuff electricians carry. They are used in investigations because it is believed that ghosts emit magnetic fields and use energies to manifest. That’s why they bring extra batteries. Ever wonder why your phone drains its battery faster than usual? Ghosts are said to tend to absorb energy from gadgets to get enough energy to manifest like create an EVP or move things (those are poltergeists). EMFs are not that reliable if there are power lines nearby. Which is almost everywhere, right?**
> 
>  
> 
> Ehhh did I get all the shit covered because if forgot something or your curious about something, feel free to ask me, I don’t bite, I swear. Beware because I’m kind of rusty with these stuff tho…5 years is a long time.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone or everyone may or may not get scolded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m alive you guys

It has been a week since the day the Paranormal Investigations Club imposed the Jaeger’s home and a week later when their new episode was uploaded and viewed in their official website.

In two weeks they had been receiving better reviews and feedbacks from their viewers. They are more than happy to entertain their questions, although everything that has to do with the Jaeger house, its whereabouts, and any information related to it are held strictly confidential---just as Armin promised---to protect its residents’ privacy and from people’s speculations. They imposed enough and the last thing they would want is this little episode of theirs attract enough attention to get the media (the side who is crazy for these kinds of things like Armin does) to go in turns and explore the house, ruining the family’s peace with people in cameras asking them questions here and there as they plug more in the corners of the house and let people play ghost hunting at night where they roam the place in the dark, rolling and messing with their belongings--- both open and private. Armin would be the most sorry of them all if that ever happens, his guilt would eat him alive if he ever saw the Jaeger couple look at him in disappointment or worse, in loathing. Armin had known the Jaeger family long enough to know where Eren got his anger problems from.

 The questions soon became too redundant that they resorted to making the episode its very own page where they posted a “Commonly Asked Questions” section and another section for the known facts about the Jaeger house. Jaeger was not used to name the house, though. Just for privacy reasons because they did not exactly obtained the owner’s permission. Asking for the son’s was still not as valid as the one who holds the papers on the house’s rights.

In the chat section, a bunch of active users are heatedly discussing the episode. A chat is opened if any of the club’s members were visiting the page—usually for moderating---so they can directly and immediately answer a question or join a discussion---that the members usually initiate themselves, but at this moment, one is happening without their intervention, but it’s not like they were complaining, they love it when their fans interact---sometimes a fan’s advice helps them in figuring out whatever they’ve found in their hunting and its helpful in ways when they are at a loss when they experience something they cannot explain themselves or right at this time when their latest hunting gave them scratching heads and shrugging shoulders whenever the topic about the EVP comes up. Which is most of the time, that some fans are starting to get pissed or more confused as they are.

**\---**

**MasterTao:** @admin!armin you found orb dwellings in the house before, but why didn’t you now when you guys investigated with better equipments? Don’t you think that’s weird or something?

**charmhexter:** Don’t you guys think it’s weird that the ghost didn’t do anything else to you guys when you came? I mean if there are only three people who lived there isn’t it possible for the ghost to get disturbed/overwhelmed with your presence? You guys are like ten and that’s a crowd, right?

**RPGMetanoia:** WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DRAINED BATTERIES?????

**Strawbeyeyy:** ask the peeps there if they know anything.

**the-real-rei:** whose room did you caught the EVP? I know that’s confidential but what if the ghost haunts that room specifically? Or whoever lives there (if that’s a bedroom)

**admin!armin:** @MasterTao yes, that’s true.

**admin!armin:** @MasterTao for the weird part, idk

**admin!armin:** @MasterTao by that I mean I’m no expert-expert but orbs move from one place to another and the photograph was taken before the current family moved in, actually

**anon8780:** ihaufoaefipgfgubdjh

**admin!armin:** @RPGMetanoia oh [B L O C K E D]! Yes, sorry we forgot about that

**admin!armin:** @RPGMetanoia we concluded the batteries were all drained by our ghost for the EVP

**RPGMetanoia:** but aint the evp too short to consume too much E

**Strawbeyeyy:** ask the peeps if they know anything

**RPGMetanoia:** its too short to get it all used up

**charmhexter:** now that you think about it do you think its storing it up or smthing???

**charmhexter:** can ghosts do that

**charmhexter:** store energy i mean

**RPGMetanoia:** i think so?

**RPGMetanoia:** hey wheres the admin

**the-real-rei:** @charmhexter if it IS storing energy could it possibly be for HAUNTING

**the-real-rei:** I think admin should listen to that guy who says you should ask the people in the house about it

**the-real-rei:** what do u think

**the-real-rei:**???

**Strawbeyeyy:** seconding ^^^^

**MasterTao:** srsly where is the admin

**MasterTao:** @admin!armin ???? the chat is still on where are you

**the-real-rei:** @admin!armin @MasterTao is rite we need your answer rn what do u think

**Strawbeyeyy:** yeayeayeayeayeaaaa

**admin!armin:** hey guys! sorry i left for a bit

**admin!armin:** gimme a moment to read the convos

**the-real-rei:** K!!

**charmhexter:** :DDDDDDDD

**admin!armin:** well, the thing is, we didn’t rly have the full consent of the owners when we hunted

**Strawbeyeyy:** YOOOOOOOOOOO

**Strawbeyeyy:** you guys tresspASSED???

**admin!armin:** NO! No, they just happened to be not there

**admin!armin:** but their son is my friend

**admin!armin:** and he gave PERMISSION

**Strawbeyeyy:** ooooohh….

**MasterTao:** so did he say anything about it?

**admin!armin:** no

**charmhexter:** did they had any power problems with their gadgets?

**admin!armin:** no…

**RPGMetanoia:** uh wow that’s still cool tho

**admin!armin:** @RPGMetanoia ???

**RPGMetanoia:** the evp

**MasterTao:** got any good guess what this ghost was before it died

**MasterTao:** with the cussing and all

**MasterTao:** i mean it doesnt seem interested in you guys at all

**chamhexter:** huh?

**MasterTao:** it did not answer the question

**MasterTao:** but is listened to that awful joke

**MasterTao:** even made a comment

**the-real-rei:** but listening to their personal talk meant it WAS interested in them right?

**MasterTao:** IT DID NOT PARTICIPATE IN THE HUNT IS WHAT I MEAN

**MasterTao:** IT DID NOT COOPERATE

**MasterTao:** the ghost did not entertain admin!armin and co

**MasterTao:** at all

**Strawbeyeyy:** OHS HIT

**Strawbeyeyy:** DHUIT

**Strawbeyeyy:** [B L O C K E D] SHIHTHUTHTSHITS

**RPGMetanoia:** what’s wrong Strawbeyeyy?

**MasterTao:**????

**Strawbeyeyy:** DO YOU THINK IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WTIH THE ORBS THING

**_the-real-rei left the chat_ **

**Strawbeyeyy:** I MEAN THINK ABIUOT IT YOU GUYS

**Strawbeyeyy:** ASSUMING IT DID NOT WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU GUYS

**Strawbeyeyy:** I’M LOOKING AT YOU admin!armin

**Strawbeyeyy:** WHAT IF IT DID SOMETHING TO THE OBRS SO YOU GUYS WONT FIND ANYTHING

**Strawbeyeyy:** LIKE AT ALL

**Strawbeyeyy:** WHAT IDF TEH EVP WAS UNINTENTIONAL

**Strawbeyeyy:** ITS NOT LISTENING TO THE ACTUAL QUESTION

**Strawbeyeyy:** ITS ACTUALLY EAVESDROPPING I FYOU OBSERVE MOER

**Strawbeyyey:** GHOST NOT INTERESTED IN TALKING TO YOU GUYS BUT IT IS WITH /YOU GUYS/

**Strawbeyyey:**

**Strawbeyeyy:** JUST A WHAT IF

**Strawbeyeyy:** AHAHAHHH

**admin!armin:** I can’t hold on to your orbs theory but your speculation with the evp is something I wanna look more into

**RPGMetanoia:** OH MY GOD @Strawbeyeyy!

**charmhexter:** um wow

**MasterTao:** someone is actually making sense

**MasterTao:** @admin!armin why don’t you try figuring out the house’s histoyr (if you can) or people who died there

**MasterTao:** also maybe the ghost’s age I don’t think anyone who lived in the older timeline would appreciate a pun

**MasterTao:** he (if the ghost’s a dude) sounds like hes scoffing/almost laughing in evp

**MasterTao:** did you guys notice that

**Strawbeyeyy:** yes!!!

**admin!armin:** wait sorry

**admin!armin:** I gotta go

**admin!armin:** but don’t worry!!!!

**admin!armin:** they’re noted!

**admin!armin:** I’ll see what I can do!

**admin!armin:** thanks a lot for the inputs guys

**admin!armin:** thank you

**_admin!armin left the chat_ **

**_\------------------------chat unavailable------------------------_ **

Armin sighed as he logged out of the page and moved from his desk to fiddle with his DSLR.

They were supposed to be thinking of a new place to go hunting for their upcoming episode but like Armin, it seems like the rest of the team are still hung up on the EVP they found on Eren’s house.

The excitement is to blame, really, since it was their very first “real” encounter. Most of the kids who signed up to join his club joined for the sake of meeting the school’s requirements of joining at least two clubs to motivate kids in participating in school activities, much to Armin’s disappointment. Their first hunt was a major failure, with them coming later than the assigned time, no sense of responsibility, and no matter how Armin begged them; no effort was done in anything they were assigned to do. They were treating this as a nuisance, if anything.

Armin was currently printing the pictures taken from the Jaeger house when his computer rang, signalling him that he received an e-mail.

The message was long, and by the time Armin was done, so as the printing.

Carefully stocking the pictures together, he moved to make a short reply and clicked send.

_I’ll think about it._ Armin thought as he stocked the printed photos while reviewing the footages they’ve got in the Jaeger house.

There is something he should speak to his club mates as soon as possible. _Maybe with Eren again afterwards._

\---

“Hey, Armin,”

Ymir greeted as she slammed the door shut behind her, carelessly throwing her bag somewhere in the room and sat in a nearby desk and yawned. She is usually the earliest to come during their after-school club meetings and today is one of them.

“What’s that on the board?”

“Hm?”

Armin pauses in writing and turns to look at her questioning expression.

Ymir raises an eyebrow and points at the board with her eyes.

“Oh! Um, you see, there’s something…”

The door opens to let Jean, Connie and Reiner in.

“Um, why won’t we wait for the rest and I’ll tell you guys what this is all about?”

“Huh, okay,” Ymir agrees and the three quietly sits on desks as they look at the board in confusion.

Armin was done writing on the board when the rest of their members came.

“Alright, so here’s the thing…”

Armin exclaims to gather their attention as he points at the board.

Some of them started squinting at whatever it was written there. Connie already had his mouth open, about to speak when the door opened with a loud bang. Everyone flinched and turned to the source.

“Hey, you guys! Ah, sorry, sorry, I was late. Oh, and this is like, our, er, second? Third…time meeting?”

Their intruder, all smiles and waves as she moves a hand to realign her glasses gave another puff of laughter as walked across the room to board, next to Armin.

She moves her eyes around the room, scanning everyone’s faces, recognizing them and jumps.

“Oh! New members?”

Another laugh.

“Uh, So, for the new kids, I’m Miss Hanji Zoe, some of you must have heard of me as one of the French teachers. I’m also the Paranormal Investigators Club’s adviser! How fun is that, yeah?”

Another puff of laughter, a small clap and a big hand gesture towards her supposed audience, only to receive silence.

As usual, she thought.

“So we have a lame name, and I’m sorry, we didn’t have enough time to think about it—last minute thing, if you wanna put it that way but that’s not why I came here to talk about, Armin Arlert!”

Upon the call of Armin’s full name, as if in military, Armin answered with a quick “Yes, Ma’am!”, Miss Zoe slamming her clenched fist hard on the board, most of the kids present flinching at the force.

Miss Zoe’s expression was that of a hard concrete, then immediately softened, as she released her clenched fist on the board and turned her head to Armin, all smiles and flowers.

She clapped.

Once, twice, thrice.

Slowly, but firm.

“As everyone should know, I _always_ check on your site, read Armin’s reports and send him a proper feedback, with no fail and I am happy with the results of your latest hunt.”

She turns on the rest of the kids, sitting still on their seats, eyes glued to their adviser. Miss Zoe’s smile is still plastered on her face. No one understands if it was genuine or simply sarcastic, and they are honestly nervous on what she’ll say next.

“Please, everyone, I want a clap for your selves.”

Silence.

“Come on, One,”

One clap, the rest follows with a clap of their own.

“two,”

One clap.

“three.”

One clap.

This seems to satisfy her, and she nods her head in confirmation. Her hands are now on her hips as she turns her body towards Armin’s direction.

“So, Armin, I know you’re a bright kid. But, can you agree with me you did something wrong?”

A meek voice, “Yes, Miss Zoe.”

Armin made a mistake.

Apparently it was something so grave, Miss Zoe, a woman too busy to get anything done had to grace them their presence once again. They actually met her once. Twice, if that two-minute video call counted. She’s that busy.

Miss Zoe nodded encouragingly at him.

“Go on.”

Armin stands straight, gives her eye contact, not before he looks at the rest of his club mates and nods at them.

“I…did not ask for permission.”

She nods at him again. More enthusiasm.

“Yes…?”

Armin clears his throat. One of the things he does when he’s nervous, a few of these people in the room knows that.

“I did not ask the owners for permission.”

Miss Zoe straightens up and nods again. Firmly this time.

“Yes, that’s right. The son is not the holder of the house’s rights, so his permit is not valid.”

Armin still felt stiff and Miss Zoe is still looking at him expectantly.

“I…didn’t give the son questionnaires regarding his medical history.”

Miss Zoe is still giving him the look.

“…regarding his mental health.”

“Yes, that’s right!”

She claps her hands together, but stops again, as she directs her attention to the entire club now.

“Oh, right! There’s one last thing. Can any of you tell me that?”

Armin raises his hand and begins to open his mouth, only for Miss Zoe to raise a hand at him, telling him to stop.

“Except Armin! I already asked him too much questions, I don’t want to make you guys feel left out. So here’s your chance, answers, please!”

No one were raising their hands at first, sharing reluctant glances towards each other, silently asking what it is she wants to hear.

Miss Zoe waits, though.

No one raised their hands. Half were scared, the other just confused.

Miss Zoe was tapping her foot impatiently by the time she snaps. She clicks her tongue and calls out Armin.

“Okay, Armin, mind telling everyone what else you all missed?”

“Professionalism.”

A blank stare.

“…we made so much fuss about our EVP because we never had one before---not a single encounter as close as an EVP---so we dropped professionalism and didn’t pay attention to anything else.”

Silence.

A sigh came from Miss Zoe, and she clapped her hands once to get everyone’s attention.

“I love paranormal. That’s why I agreed to be this club’s adviser when Armin here proposed the club. I’m really sorry for the name, I hate it too.”

No one understands what this has to do with anything she asked previously or Miss Zoe gracing them with her presence.

“…and I’m really proud of you guys! I used to get reports from Armin how uncooperative you guys used to be, but now---!”

She excitedly points her hands at them. They are still confused.

Miss Zoe claps again, once, twice, a lot.

“I am so proud.” A sniff.

“But you violated the rules! You went in there without permission—because to be honest, I can forgive you kids for the professionalism, you’re still amateurs—and its really bad! Even disrespectful for the owners! You invaded their privacy!”

She sighs again and crosses her arms.

“I’m so sorry,” she turns her head left and right.

“You have to take everything you said back. By that, I mean taking down your episode about the house, everything that has to do with it. I don’t care if your viewers would get mad, what you did was wrong, and I don’t want you kids getting in trouble.”

_What?_

_“_ You can still keep the videos and the documents for study though, just closed for the public. _”_

Sounds of protest.

“I’m sorry, its either you take it down or this club is _down_.”

_This is so unfair._

“Oh, and I’m temporarily suspending your club. Don’t worry, no need to sign up for another one for the school requirement thing, it’s just temporary. Suspended until I said so.”

They never got to open their mouths because Miss Zoe was already on her way closing the classroom’s door upon her exit.

“Meeting adjourned!”

A gentle click of the door. Silence.

Everything happened too fast, they did not have enough time to act accordingly.

They exchanged glances amongst each other.

Silently asking: _What now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> those usernames may or may not be real and from people I know irl  
> idk
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Also you guys will know I’m at the part I like/excited to write about if I start adding pics in here just saying~~
> 
> I also like talking to people about things so you guys can bug me [here ](generatorreggg.tumblr.com)or [here](motoroilfreeway.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things happening...lots of 'em

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience
> 
>  
> 
> I'm sorry for being late  
> real life, yanno
> 
> Unbeta'ed but whatever

Its not in his bed.

Its not under his bed.

Its not on his desk---he already checked on it.

Its not in his bag---which was strange because if it wasn’t in his bed or under it or his desk then the last place he’ll always, _always_ remember was that he puts it in his bag.

So where did it go?

“Give it back to me!” He growls into the silent room---not too loud for the sound to bounce around the space and echo throughout the house, but loud enough to hear it for himself and him only.

He’s starting to lose his patience and he can tell that any minute from now he’s really going to start tearing his room apart looking for his sketchbook.

“Give it back,” He says again lowly, as he rips his drawer open and about to dig into his clothes. Maybe he put it there---

“Give back what?”

Eren stills from his position and turns around, like a burglar caught in act.

His anxiety was somewhat relieved when he realized it was only Armin, standing by his bedroom door with the strap of his laptop bag dangling off one of his shoulders. He moves to lean on the door’s frame and crosses both of his arms across his chest and eyes him with amusement.

Eren’s earlier frustration fades in seconds.

“My sketchbook---I can’t find it anywhere.” _Help me look for it?_ Eren chuckles with a hint of embarrassment and honesty.

Armin simply raises both eyebrows at him, then rolls his eyes towards the direction of his desk. Eren follows Armin’s line of sight, and he feels his earlier frustration flames a new as he sees his sketchbook _sitting right on top of his desk, as if it was there all along_.

Eyebrows furrowed and expression angry, he says “But it wasn’t there before! I’ve been looking for hours! I could’ve seen that!”

“Well, now it is.” Was all Armin says with a lazy shrug of his shoulders.

“Well, come on now. What do you need me here for?”

Eren approaches his desk, grabs his sketchbook and nonchalantly flips through his sketches, as if skimming the pages, and says “I need help.”

Armin moves from his place by the door to sit on Eren’s bed and put his laptop back down beside him. “You got your sketchbook now.”

“I didn’t ask you to come over to help me look for some dumb drawing book, Armin.”

“But that dumb drawing book almost drove you crazy when it went missing.”

“Armin!”

“Okay, okay!” Armin raises both hands and chuckles. He sits on Eren’s bed and watches as Eren sits on his chair to face Armin, his arms cradling the sketch book.

“Help me with my homework.”

Armin snorts.

“Really? That’s it?”

“Shut up. I didn’t get enough sleep so I slept in the class so Mr. Smith gave me extra work to do.”

“Nightmares again?”

Eren looks down and stares at his sketch book with a forlorn expression, and slowly nods, as if humiliated. This made Armin sigh.

“You know, its normal for everyone to get nightmares.”

“You know they’re different.”

“I wouldn’t really be able to tell because you never shared any details. Eren, I wouldn’t be able to help you if you won’t tell me what it was about. I need to know what was bothering you so we can talk about it and help you resolve them on your own.”

“You’re not my therapist.”

“Dreams can be easily interpreted as long as you got the means.”

“That still doesn’t give you a degree to diagnose me.”

“Eren----“

“Homework.”

Armin sighs and moves to take out his laptop and get to work. Even if pigs start flying it seems that Eren would never talk about his dreams to anyone else but himself.

Once Armin has his laptop out, that means he’s ready to do things. Eren always wondered how one can study and do well in school with laptops out, but with Armin, he thinks its just a part of himself. Armin is Armin, and an Armin that does school work or anything that needs serious attention without a laptop in front of him is not normal.

Understanding the silent message, he throws the sketchbook on his bed, a little bit beside Armin who makes a noise of annoyance, “What if it hits my laptop!”. The sketchbook flips open and Armin, for the first time, sees one of Eren’s sketches inside.

Most people write down their dreams in a dream journal to further understand their dreams or be able to control their dreams. Eren has a sketchbook, the biggest size he can find, to draw everything he saw in his dreams.

As a child, Eren was the type who spends the day drawing and coloring. He draws everything he sees or catches his attention. Armin was not sure about the details, but when Eren was nine years old, his parents brought him to a therapist who also suggested that Eren should make a dream journal, so they can talk about his dreams that the boy seemed to be paying so much attention to in relation to his initial reason he was brought in.

Of course, being Eren, he always thought writing a journal was a pain, and always turned in blank papers whenever he visits his therapist. An alternative was introduced then, that he should just go up and draw or sketch whatever it is he saw in his dreams. Things he remembered seeing or feeling, anything related to it at all.

Must to the therapist’s relief, they received better results.

It has been a long time since Eren’s last visit, but it seems like keeping a dream sketchbook became a part of Eren’s life. Drawing his dreams and nightmares was a way to vent out his feelings, Armin thinks. That was why the sketchbook was something of Eren’s personal belonging. He does not want anyone looking into it, just like how he doesn’t want to talk about his dreams. He doesn’t people talking about it like they understand. No one understands, he told him Armin before.

Armin, somewhat hurt but glad for his friend’s honesty, respected Eren’s opinion and left the journal be.

It was just purely accidental.

A second was long enough for Armin’s curious eyes to see what was in the page.

It was a man. With black, black hair. So black it seems like the graphite would easily smudge the paper with the littlest of pressures used on it.

Before he gets to see the rest of it, Eren’s hand slammed it close.

Armin helped Eren in explaining Shakespeare’s works as if he never saw what was inside the sketchbook.

It was a silent agreement to the both of them that no one saw anything and no one will talk about it.

Armin respected that.

* * *

 

“Hey Armin,” Eren calls out. They were right outside Eren’s house. It was a little past ten and Armin was about to say goodbye when Eren suddenly moves to pull at his sleeve and stop him.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Wouldn’t it, I dunno, uh,”

“Wouldn’t what?” Armin asks, his eyebrows furrowed. He have no idea what Eren was talking about and the fact that Eren was somewhat unsure of it himself confuses Armin more.

“Interfere with your, club thing? I know wednesdays your club days and its pretty late. Is that okay?”

“Oh, my club’s suspended.”

“Huh?”

Armin laughs, amused. The look on Eren’s face was just the same as the rest of the members---well except him. His unworried reaction to the suspension was another shock to the rest of the club it seems---Eren included.

“It was suspended. Apparently, we did not follow some rules last time so we were suspended unless said so.”

“It’s not your fault,” Armin adds quietly, his tone was that of a comforting one. It was true though, it was their mistake. There’s no use blaming anyone else for situation like these. Sometimes the problem is just really with you, and Armin accepts that this time, it’s all on him.

“Then why are you so calm about it?” Eren grumbles, still unconvinced, but trusts Armin nonetheless.

Armin readjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulders as he shrug. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my friend?”

Armin thought it was the hardest laugh he ever made. His stomach was hurting by the time he left the Jaeger residence, an Eren still not amused waving him goodbye and a “be careful” as he made his way home.

He thinks, as he opens their door and calls out to his grandfather that he’s back, it was a normal reaction.

Eren knows ever since they were kids of Armin’s interest in the paranormal. The club was a dream come true and he wouldn’t stop talking about how it was approved and that there’s actually a teacher who is equally as interested in it as he was to Eren.

He was passionate. He took the club seriously and he funded the club’s investigations with his parents’ money.

It was normal everyone would react that way when he simply says “It doesn’t matter anymore.”.

He wants to tell everyone that there really is something more to it, but really, it just doesn’t matter anymore.

But then again, he reflects some more, as he reads his newest e-mail, maybe there really is something more to it?

* * *

 

Eren’s parents are always barely home when he turns thirteen.

His father was always needed in the emergency room, and his mother was always busy going places. If his father ever gets a vacation, he makes sure it gets well spent with his wife, somewhere in a different country.

Eren has no problem with that, to be honest. He understands how his father works hard to support his family. He understands that he would always come second when it comes to his parents’ love and attention due to their circumstances, really.

He doesn’t have any problems about being left alone to his own devices more often than he’d liked. He thinks maybe this was what Armin thinks as well, about his own parents. Except of course, Eren doesn’t have a grandfather to live with in this big lonely manor.

Well, the advantage of being alone most of the time was that there was no one to see him talk to himself, and that was good. Really great.

He doesn’t want his mother, all worried and sounding angry be all over him again. Asking questions and echoing his answers for his father to hear and convince another therapy.

He’s not crazy.

He’s real.

He tried telling them before and all his parents did was give him to people who would start making conversations and says things as if they truly understand. Eren thought before that they really did, and told them everything he saw, heard, and was told.

They listened, of course. Eren thought it was a good thing, because that was one thing his mother never did. Listen.

But these people did. They listened.

But then, they have to talk.

They said he’s not real. That he made him up. That he was the one who was doing all those things. What they told him was that he should stop doing these horrible things and blame someone not real for it.

It was all Eren. There was no man that with an authoritative posture he calls The Corporal.

But its not.

They didn’t listen after that.

Therapists are worse than parents, Eren concluded then.

No one can be trusted, and so he kept it all to himself after that.

All he had to do to get rid of them was listen to what they want, so he did.

He pretended to not hear his voice calling out to him at night.

He pretended that no one was standing at the foot of his bed when he sleeps.

He pretended he doesn’t feel those dark, dark eyes boring into him whenever he’s alone in the house.

He pretended he just misplaces his things and that he didn’t hide them just to see Eren scream and rip his hair in searching for his important things.

He pretended.

When the therapists think he’s okay to go, his parents rewarded him with leaving their house.

Somehow his little game of pretend rewarded him more than what he initially wanted.

He thought that since Eren never saw him outside the house, he’ll stay with the house once they left for good, never to return.

He was wrong.

He followed him cities away.

He’s not stuck with the house, he’s stuck with him.

The more he tries to ignore his presence and his voice, the more he seems to strive for Eren’s attention.

The nightmares are horrible. He always gets dreams that he wouldn’t be able to remember the moment he wakes up, and sees him hovering over him, his face too close to his face. That impassive expression and dark, dark eyes always scares the hell out of Eren, whatever the occasion may be and he always ends up screaming whenever he wakes up in the past.

The journal helps, but the dreams are too implicit for him to make out a proper scene. He always remembers only a glimpse of it. His memory of it lasts in the duration of one’s blink.

It’s always hard to remember, and the most things he only draws in the sketchbook was just him.

It was always him.

Follows him everywhere but doesn’t seem to make himself be known in the presence of others. Armin’s audio tape must’ve been a fluke, he thinks.

But that voice was scarily his. He could always pick out that voice in the sea voices. Always.

It was so him. The tone, even the language. It was the very first evidence he’s found that can prove his existence. That he doesn’t need a therapy, that he’s sane. That he’s real.

It was pleasing, but also scary.

To know that he is real.

* * *

 

There are still a few sticks of glue left when he finished his diorama.

It was a few minutes after 1 am, but it was a Friday anyway, so Eren figured he doesn’t really need to jump to bed already.

He grabs one of sticks and starts melting the glue with the candle. He watches the glue blacken and slowly boil and drip, hot and smoky onto the candle below. It trickles down, down, down, before it slows and hardens, the cold air makes the freezing of the glue become faster than normal.

He glances beside his finished diorama, and takes out more candles, places them next to his lit one and lets them start burning and sticks them to the paper bag he placed specially for the candles and glue. It’ll be hard if they won’t come off the table, and his mother will scold him for it.

He plays with the glue, watches them with eyes that are starting to see nothing else but light due to the exposure. They melt and he lets the boiling liquid drop on the paper bag, watch them go drip, drip, drip and freeze into something transparent with speckles of black.

When he ran out of sticks, he collects the bits of glue he let drip that froze again and points them at the candle light, repeating.

It was somewhat amusing and distracting the first time, but the more you redo it, the more it loses its fascination, so he decides it was enough. The clock says an hour has passed, and he thought it was enough stalling for the day and he should go to bed.

He cleans the table, and places his diorama in the living room’s table, lest he forgets it on the deadline.

Sometimes, he really appreciates the solitude.

He goes to bed and closes his eyes. A few minutes and he feel his eyes on him so he pulls the blanket up over his head and breathes.

He can’t hurt him, he kept on telling himself.

He can’t touch him. He never seemed to do so for as long as Eren can remember.

He’s safe, he tells himself again.

He falls asleep and drowns in vivid, horrifying images that he wouldn’t remember come by morning.

* * *

 

The days seem to drift so fast, the next thing they know they’re already being prepared for graduation.

Armin’s club was still suspended, so he spends most of his time over at Eren’s. Mikasa was busy with her sports clubs and as a senior, she was busy screening members of her clubs for a suitable successor of her rank.

The lack of Mikasa’s presence was somehow off putting, since Eren was never off on his own without Mikasa’s supervision ever since he met the girl.

But somehow, it was also kind of settling, with no one to nag at him to do his homework, or clean his room---things his mother was unable to do anymore.

Just being with Armin was enough for Eren, it seems. Must be because it brings him back to the times they used to sneak off from Mikasa’s sight and go running looking for ghosts with cameras and flash lights. Being rebellious was another thing the boys enjoyed.

Armin was on the floor, his laptop resting on Eren’s bed. Armin was moving his body left and right with no absolute aim for anything and it catches Eren’s attention. He looks up from where he was lying, not too far away from Armin on the floor and sees that Armin was using the camera on his laptop.

“What are you doing?”

“I set my camera in surveillance mode. There’s a setting where it’ll start recording once it detects movement and stops when the movement is gone.” Armin still and makes faces.

This made Eren laugh. “What are you doing?”

“I’m setting the sensitivity to the lowest setting available and I’m checking if it will be triggered with facial movements. Stop laughing.”

“Its for science, I get it.” Eren loses interest and goes back to lying on the floor.

He feels Armin shuffle around and leave the room. “I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want something from the kitchen?”

“Nah.”

“I’ll be right back.” Footsteps and Armin was gone.

A few minutes and he hears footsteps again, then silence. He hears Armin’s keyboard, the seems to be busy on whatever he was doing with camera.

“Eren,”

“What is it?” Eren immediately looks up from where Armin was sitting by bed, Armin’s dreaded voice worried him.

“Come look at this.” He says, his eyes still on his screen, his face getting pale.

“What’s going on?” What’s wrong?” Armin’s expression was starting to unsettle him and Armin’s refusal to relay him the news was causing his anxiety to spike up. He almost runs when he managed to stand on his two legs to get to Armin’s side as soon as possible.

The program to Armin’s camera was on, and there are four video clips saved in the captured bar, the last three clips only lasting for three seconds.

“Remember how I set it in surveillance mode?”

Eren haven’t replied yet when he continues again, “I set the sensitivity to the lowest setting, which means it won’t go off unless it detects huge movements.”

He plays one of the videos.

“I left to get a drink and left it on,”

The video plays for three seconds, shows nothing but Eren’s room, no movement was observed.

“By the time I get back, I saw three new clips saved. All lasted for three seconds. The fourth one was about me returning to my laptop. See how it stopped when I stilled?”

Eren felt cold air run down his arms, and his body felt stiff. It felt harder to swallow, and he fights the urge to shake from the cold air that suddenly seemed to circle the room and nods, if not a bit stiffly.

“I thought it must be because of the wind, moving something, so checked. There’s nothing.”

“Nonetheless, its impossible. The windows are tightly shut and there’s nothing in the background that wind can move. I checked it multiple times but nothing moved. Nothing could’ve triggered my camera to start filming Eren.”

It was strange for Armin to feel this tense. He should’ve reveled in the experience, of another possible encounter, as he would’ve worded it. But he was also as stiff and somewhat scared as Eren he replayed the videos over and over. Occasionally pausing at some parts.

“Eren, what is going on?”

He’s real and he’s scared, Eren thinks as he stares blankly at the screen. Watches Armin helplessly grope for answers as he replays the videos over and over again, looking for anything to explain the phenomena.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry its late  
> thanks for telling me. I don't really get mad when peeps tell me to update because I really need the reminder. I'm forgetful and my sister says she thinks I have retrograde amnesia O_O???
> 
> ANNDD that thing with the camera? Yeah that one. Its real. It happened. To me.  
> A few weeks ago I did what armin did and surprise surprise what are these new clips???
> 
> something's up with the new flat I moved in to and it used to be only from the bathroom but when the thingy in the bathroom was gone, I started getting dreams of someone hovering over me and me unable to move. When I finally do, I wake up. I always wake up on a 3 am O_O???
> 
> but naH GHOSTS AND DEMONSA RENT REAL
> 
> anyway...I love getting comments and questions, so go crazy  
> I'll try my best to satisfy your questions or whatever
> 
> thanks for the support...I never really expected such feedback tbh


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mom is home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning for domestic violence up ahead. And also a hint at eating disorders, yea?  
> That's all thank you.
> 
> This chapter is also unbeta'ed as usual.
> 
> I forgot to mention earlier that pics I put up here are all mine unless I say so and put up a source. Don't worry.

Eren dreams.

He was wearing some sort of a military uniform, but he’s couldn’t really tell since it looks different from what he sees soldiers wear in movies or in the news.

They were twelve years old, he estimates. In front of him in the far right, Armin stands, a big bundle of nervous nerves. Shaking like a leaf and he screams his name the way he does during recitals when he thinks he didn’t study enough but gets the answers right anyway. It surprises Eren to see his confident friend look so small and vulnerable at that moment. Too out of character but the voice and the face clearly says it’s him.

The man towering over his friend moves away from him, shouts a command in a language he doesn’t understand. He watches from his peripherals the way Armin and the rest harden and move their poses to rest. Sees the big man move to the next line and start the screaming again. Eren thinks this is probably their officer. A commander, perhaps.

He looks too big and towering, so his theory that they were merely pubescent at this moment confirms it. Like how they were in their first year of middle school. Too small and lively. Except everyone in here seems tense.

Then he sees Jean. Annoying Jean who doesn’t look as scared as the rest as the commander---who now reminds him so much of their scary gym instructor, Mr. Shadis---towers over him, all dark and intruding and starts screaming profanities---he’s not really sure what Mr. Shadis seems to say since it was a language he does not understand but it sounds angry---at his face. Instead Jean smiles and says something annoying, every word filled with pride.

Eren feels the corner of his mouth twitch upwards when he saw Mr. Shadis the commander hit him in the gut. Eren bites his tongue to stop himself from smiling when he hears how Jean groans at the pain and see him from the corner of his eyes on his knees, writhing in pain. Good for him.

The screaming drags on for more, and he tenses when he notices how Mr. Shadis step closer towards his line. He breathes slowly into his nose when Mr. Shadis simply passes by him.

Flashes of white and black then some red and the next time he sees something out of these colors, he thinks he was flying.

Then he feels the surprisingly familiar pull of leather against his chest, the way his feet moves to pull at those wrapped on his feet and spin in the air. Everything moves too fast, he fears he might slam into a tree and die because he thinks he was at least three stories high and the trees are bigger, taller, and thicker. Also probably sturdier, the way his equipment---three-dimensional manoeuvre gear, his mind supplies---sticks and hold to them. But he did not. In fact, he was kind of proud of himself, the way does a little spin in the air and make a sharp turn to the right using his own weight to make a full 360-degree turn and fly towards a dummy, blades at the ready.

He hisses a cuss in that language when he sees how Mikasa managed to cut deeper than he did at the dummy. Damn Mikasa. Mikasa is always the best, even his dreams she was the best. It pisses him off.

Wait, no.

Eren starts thinking, his thoughts going off somewhere. His world seems to slow and everything slowly morph into infinite darkness, leaving him flying mid-air in his 3dmg.

There was someone else.

Someone better. Better than Mikasa, more capable.

Someone better…

Then suddenly he’s standing in the middle of a crowd, by the gates of Trost.

He’s excited because in the entirety of three years, he’ll get to see his heroes off to battle again.

That’s where he sees him in his black stallion, as dark and majestic as he was.

The corporal didn’t move to meet his eyes filled with adoration and respect, but Eren wished him luck and corpses of many titans in his wake anyway.

Then he feels a strong hand on his shoulder, prompting him to turn his attention elsewhere.

He sees Mikasa and she speaks.

“Beep beep. Bebeep beep. Beep beep----“

* * *

Eren wakes up to the sound of his alarm, his neck twisted to his left towards his night stand where the noisy thing sits. He raises a hand that he could barely feel if he succeeded in raising and tries to slam the snooze.

He remembers dreaming something, something that he really wants to continue where he left off, but he just can’t remember for the love of fuck.

He decides to curl on his left and wait for the next ring of his alarm clock and get up after that.

It’s a Saturday, so it’s okay to sleep in anyway, he thinks as he goes back to sleep to the sound of his second alarm.

He was back in dreamland when his phone vibrated, indicating a new message from Armin. It vibrates again after a few minutes, this one coming from Mikasa.

* * *

There was a sigh sounding nearly frustrated and Armin feels like letting out the same as he stares just as intently as Mikasa does in his own mobile.

Eren is not answering their texts.

They also tried calling, but it was a lost cause.

Eren must’ve forgotten that they were supposed to meet up and eat a late breakfast in a shop not too far from their homes. He’s probably sleeping in. Eren is not an early sleeper after all, so he sleeps a lot during the day. Worst-case scenario he wakes up around evening and ends up eating nothing but dinner throughout the entire day.

Aunt Carla would have his intestines in a stick if she knows about this.

Armin thinks Mikasa may want to order for Eren’s intestines on a stick, roasted for their late breakfast, based on how she looks at her screen.

He calms her and reasons Eren was under tight deadlines anyway and busy preparing for his high school entrance exams so she should give him a break. They could just drop by later this afternoon, bring him some take-out, so he could at least eat something, if he feels like going back to sleep again. The both of them have keys of Eren’s house anyway. His room, the main doors and the gates, to be precise.

Because this situation is not uncommon.

At first, Armin said no, despite Mikasa’s eagerness, reasoning if they won’t take a copy as soon as possible, Eren might die alone and be found rotting and maybe fully decomposed by the time his corpse gets discovered because no one would be able to check on him unless you can hack into the estate’s tight security system.

There was a time they decided to celebrate Mikasa winning in her first soccer match. They decided to meet at the front of Eren’s gates around the afternoon but Eren overslept.

They tried ringing the door bell, calling over the intercom, texting and then calling.

Screaming on the gates is futile because it would be a few yards away from the gate before their voices reach Eren’s house, and it’s kind of embarrassing and terrifying since Eren lives by the district where big mansions and estates lie, and if rich neighbours were to see two poorly-dressed (his self-esteem seems to go down a lot of levels under their scrutiny) children screaming at a neighbor’s closed gates they might call the district security, or worse, the cops. They don’t want to go to jail.

So they ended up eating a normal late lunch near one of the café’s nearby and it tore Armin’s heart at the expression Mikasa was making as she stabs her boiled quail egg with her fork and fails. Dead eyes lazily following the egg as it rolls on the other side of her plate.

Eren woke up three hours later, their lunch long settled in their stomachs and probably gone.

It was Mikasa who answered Eren’s panicked call, apologizing and sounds as if he’s about to cry.

But isn’t it was supposed to be Mikasa who should be crying at that moment? It was supposed to be a fun day, the three of them celebrating and treasuring Mikasa, because she worked so hard and now there had been talks between coaches about promoting Mikasa to vice-captain and it was the best achievement any freshman could get.

It was a disaster.

And so they (mostly Armin) finally accepted the keys and so far their uncommon dates became less disastrous because if Eren sleeps in or forgets they could always get in his large estate and haul his butt up because they have a date.

Mikasa seems to hold her breath, lest she sigh again in frustration and instead channels all that energy into pushing her mobile away from her face and into her bag. She nods, eyes closed and sighs nonetheless.

“It was probably for the best,” she says with finality.

Armin nods and they order.

He thinks that Mikasa meant something else, and agrees.

But for how long?

* * *

It came as a surprise to the both of them when they see Aunt Carla in the estate upon entering the Jaeger house. The same goes for her, it seems.

She was sitting by one of the cushioned seats in the living room, drinking tea. She yelps the moment she opens her eyes and sees the both of them standing by the entrance, holding a bag of take-out for Eren to eat.

She just got back from her week-long trip from Spain.

When the two explained why they came bringing in food, she was surprised to hear that her son is actually somewhere in the mansion, sleeping still. It’s already past three in the afternoon, after all.

Mikasa and Armin winces when they hear the growl in Aunt Carla’s voice as she mutters to herself that “that boy must’ve slept in one of the guest rooms” since the first thing she did after entering their home after setting all her things---clothes and souvenirs---is check on her son’s room only to find it uncharacteristically clean and tidy. No sign of her boy anywhere.

She assumed that since the three of them had this habit of going out somewhere to eat on some weekends, she left it be and went on to setting her things back in order. She was already taking out the souvenirs she bought Armin and Mikasa, as well as for his grandfather and her parents. They thanked her, feeling somewhat embarrassed upon seeing how the items and food seems to be expensive. It was too much, but the Jaeger family seems to be so thankful of them for befriending their rather unsociable son. So they accept reluctantly, along with other things the Jaegers gave them ever since they’ve met the boy.

They find Eren in one of the rooms in the first floor, the first door on the left most corridor of the floor.

Armin and Mikasa winces and closes their eyes when they hear Aunt Carla’s booming voice, shouting at Eren to get up this instant, is this how a normal person should sleep in a day, and how dare he make his friends wait for three hours? Three, they waited for him and finally decided they were indeed ditched. Said friends looked somewhere else the moment Eren’s still bleary eyes from the sudden brightness of the previously dark room met them in confusion. The look in Eren’s face is that of disbelief, because he thinks, with his hazy mind that Mikasa and Armin are not the type to dwindle around for that long out of courtesy, them being practical and all. They would immediately proceed with whatever it is they have to do, with or without Eren. That’s just how they are. Aunt Carla was exaggerating and it feels kind of scary and embarrassing to correct her right now that they were actually expecting that kind of situation, with Eren being Eren and all. They’re used to it.

Eren half-listens to the things his mother says, and stares at the wall in front of him, blinking sleep. His head still feels somewhat heavy and the soft bed and thick comfy blanket is so nice he wants nothing else but bury himself back into it and sigh into his soft pillows. Instead, he scratches his bed head and grunts an affirmative at what his mother had to say.

He wasn’t expecting her to return so soon. He thought that she’ll be back by noon.

A glance at a clock and _oh shit_. It _is_ noon. He overslept.

_Shit_.

He turns his head slowly towards his friends, looking pale and distraught. Armin reassures him with a shake of his head and a smile, whereas Mikasa raised the bag she was holding, showing her Eren’s supposed late breakfast.

The bag is lowered as if to be hidden and Armin’s smile gets redirected towards his mother when she decides to turn her gaze towards the two.

* * *

It was past six in the evening by the time they leave at the Jaeger’s, carrying presents and left over meals Eren’s mother brought out for them. She said they were free to take home as much as they like, considering how much they seem to like the dishes so much and since it was going to be only the two of them at home anyway so it would only be a waste. Eren is a picky eater, too so the probability of Eren eating the same dish in the same day (or night) is impossible.

Eren took the liberty of walking them out of the district. Casually walking in front of them by a few steps, he casually asks, “So what was that we were supposed to talk about at the date, anyway?”

Mikasa and Armin felt their legs momentarily hesitate to stop from moving, but continued their pace so as not to let Eren grow suspicious and stop and look at them in the face. If he looks at them in the eye it would break their hearts. Eren’s heart, if they managed to spill everything with probably the same casual tone Eren used in asking.

Luckily for them, Eren didn’t notice and continued, still waiting for his answer.

Mikasa casts a glance at him through the slits of her long hair that never failed to obstruct her face. It was a wonder how she managed her sports with that dark mass of black on her head all the time. The credit goes to Eren’s braiding skills, another part of his head tells him.

Armin opens his mouth, broken voice about to come out, still hesitating. To tell or not to tell.

Eren hums in question; about to repeat what he said, thinking that maybe they didn’t hear him right because he was further from them?

Before he does though, Armin re-opens his mouth again, this time with confidence. Mikasa casts him another look that says so much on how his voice seems to shake when he says its nothing of importance. Eren does not notice though, and Armin thinks that was enough.

Eren simply hums in acknowledgement and lets it drop.

The rest of the walk felt like hours when in reality, it was only three minutes.

* * *

In another turn, Mikasa and Armin will be separating for they lived in different streets. Mikasa took that moment to stop and face him, a certain look on her face.

“Armin, time is running out.”

Armin’s eyes widen in understanding, glowing a bright shade of blue due to the street light illuminating the path for them. It started growing darker by the time they made it here.

He buries himself into his scarf and breathes into it, sighing.

“I’ll...need to confirm first before I tell him.” He decides.

He winces when he feels Mikasa shuffle away, readjusting the bags in her hands as she walks away from him.

“You’ll just end up hurting him more, then me, and then you.”

She said, and Armin was helpless, watching her back fade away in the light into the dark in his peripherals as his sight continued its fixation on his scarf, and on then on the ground.

He knew what the answer will always be, in the end.

Mikasa does too, it seems.

But a part of him believes that it has to mean something, when Eren failed to meet them that morning, and he hopes.

_For how long?_ He asks nothing. He hears the question be asked back at his mind in Mikasa’s voice.

He ignores it and starts walking home, believing everything will be okay. He has to, for everyone’s sake.

* * *

Mom is home.

Three words Eren didn’t know that could sound so fucking terrifying.

With her in the house, Eren always feels like walking on eggshells.

Staying in his room is bad, chances are she’ll barge in and start shouting profanities at him, being too lazy and unproductive with his life.

She’s a fucking actress, that bitch.

His friends always thinks she’s a fucking saint, Eren was lucky to have her for a mother and same goes for his father too, lucky to have her for a wife. Always so welcoming, always so motherly. She’s beautiful and perfect. Everyone loves her. Everyone is Carla Jaeger’s friend, and so Eren has no one to turn to.

Ever since Eren grew old enough to take care of himself, he never felt this kind of peace before.

Mom started leaving the house more frequently than before, leaving him and the too-large house for the both of them for a caretaker who comes every morning and evening to clean and make him his meals.

It’s sick how she never forgot to attend to his daily needs as her child. It’s sicker when she forces them down his throat. Figuratively, anyway. He doesn’t know when the time it would finally be literally would come though, but his instincts tells him it’s going to be soon, with his aversion to meals start getting more attention from her.

She asks him why he doesn’t eat much. He tells her he doesn’t know. She gets mad and starts rambling about illnesses and how it’s going to kill him when he gets older.

If he was his younger self he would be crying and forcing food down his throat upon hearing that, just like how he did things when she scared her with his stories.

So he’s going to die of ulcer soon, sure. He doesn’t give a shit anymore.

He’ll die if he’s going to die. Fuck her.

He actually dreams of seeing the look on her face if she sees him kill himself on the spot though. Must be priceless. Worth it.

But he doesn’t because he’s a coward.

If he were to say it was because he sees Mikasa and Armin’s face he would just be lying to himself anyway.

Growing up alone and isolated to everything made him so naïve and too innocent.

Things little kids his age knew as general information are foreign to him, and so he was subjected to daily humiliation. He didn’t even know it was humiliation until they started stealing his things.

Telling him they like it, wouldn’t Eren just give it to them instead? His dad is a doctor, so he must be paying well, right? He can always ask him to buy him a new one. They’re friends anyway and friends are supposed to give presents. Here’s yours, by the way.

A torn stuffed animal. Small and dirty, it looks like a moose.

Needless to say, Eren was happy. No one else has given him a present after all and they said they were friends.

His mother found out and he got a beating.

Lashes from one of Father’s leather belts.

It stung so much the skins of his thighs up to his back hurt and he ended up rolling on the floor, curled in on himself. An arm twisted towards his back, trying to scratch the pain away. His scratches felt nothing compared to the burning flesh.

It was too much for a six year old.

After that when friends ask him things he says no, because his Mom will hurt him. His friends were upset.

Very, that they took things from him by force. Kicks his bag and hides his shoes.

Soon enough, he grew sick of it, and followed the Corporal’s advice.

It was right after his beating. He was crying, but Mom screamed at him to stop because he’s so noisy it pisses her off so he bites his lips but whines comes out anyway. Her mood is still bad so she leaves him on the floor, still curled up and crying, rubbing at his new marks. She decided to used the metal part of the belt on him this time, and he thinks with fear, another wave of sobs in their way, that they were bleeding. He feels a bit of skin getting pulled and something wet below his knees.

That was when he notices booted feet above him.

He looks up and he sees him, big and dark. Looming over him as he crouches low to peek into his big red-rimmed eyes. Those dark eyes never scared him as a child, no matter how menacing they looked. This time though, those eyes were more intense than before.

He rests his head on his folded arms and clicks his tongue in disappointed. More tears falls down his eyes seeing the unpleasant look on his face aimed directly towards him. He never did that before. Always at someone else.

”What a fucking waste on tears and snot.” He said, turning his head to the side to lift an arm and bring those big hands towards his face.

Eren almost screams in panic, fearing he might hit him too and closes his eyes, bracing for the impact.

Only to feel nothing.

He hears nothing but his deep breathes at that moment, eyes still clenched shut, still waiting, still bracing.

Soon his face gets tired, as well as his body and his mind, but he tries his best to hold on anyway and gets the courage to open his eyes. Slowly.

That was when he sees it.

The Corporal’s hands resting not too far away from his face. A finger towards his cheek, slightly bent as he reaches to rub the tears away.

His eyes stopped crying at that time, his attention no longer towards his pain but to the man he always called his friend as he raised that hand again to flick the tears away from his finger and wipe it carefully on a handkerchief he pulled out of nowhere. Always white and pristine, unlike his that always gets dirty and smelly.

Then he leans down, his cheeks almost touching the floor as Eren’s but not too close. He looks at him in the eye and tells him, “Eren wouldn’t let pigs step on him like this,” and more.

Eren listened, and he fought. He didn’t let those people at school step on him anymore, as how The Corporal worded. They didn’t like this change in him though, and always made sure to show him his place, but that made him only fight harder.

His mother may find out and he gets beaten again, but he’s getting used to the pain, and he smiles when The Corporal appears and nods at him in acknowledgement this time. Standing high and mighty, looking him down from where he stood as he watches Eren beaten and on the floor. He says “Not bad,” and that was enough.

Well, Mom found out that he still talks to his so-called imaginary friend he calls Corporal and things worsened.

She started calling him out on it, calling him crazy and starts shouting taunts.

He doesn’t remember when he started hated eating. But somewhere along the way he started neglecting his lunches at school and swallowing had gotten harder for him to do.

It was a way to rebel against her, he thinks.

Only that now he doesn’t force himself to not eat, it’s just that eating became some kind of a chore to him now. A revolting one.

He stops scribbling in his sketch pad and listens.

His ears pick up movement and he jumps out of his bed to throw his sketch pad to the floor before kicking it under his bed. He lies under the covers and turns to the direction opposite the door.

His breathing was hard and it blows on the blanket, its starting to get hotter inside but he endures.

He internally cusses when he realizes he forgot to turn the lights off, but its too late to get up now. What if she decides to enter _now_?

He didn’t flinch when he hears the door opening and tries to steady his breathing.

_Calm, calm, calm._ He tells himself. He tries to relax his face, prays for any gods or deities listening at that moment that Mom wouldn’t notice he’s awake when he feels her approach his bed and pull the blankets down to neck. Hears her mutter low in her breath about keeping him from asphyxia, wouldn’t that thick blanket block out air? He feels himself slowly relax when he feels her cold hands on his neck and slide up to his forehead, clicking a tongue about him sweating because of what he did and leaves. Feels her turn the AC on his room and more shuffling, probably sweeping his things away into their supposed places. He’ll get frustrated looking for them again tomorrow, for sure. Then she’ll get mad for Eren asking her his things all the time. It’s frustrating.

A few more mumbles and shuffling and the door shuts closed. She’s gone.

She also turned his lights off.

Eren didn’t bother getting up and continued to sleep after that.

He dreamt nothing that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been 2 years I guess and I'm just really bothered...is Eren's b-day on the 25th or 30th?? Someone tell me I'm confused (some sources tell me its 30th but some says its on the 25th. Welp
> 
> also its hard to write when depressed. this is all what came out  
> apologies


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean goes babysitting, sort of. Then some things gets acknowledged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember why I'm uploading a new chap when I'm supposed to be crying for my doom.
> 
> enjoy anyway
> 
> WARNING: UNBETA'ED AND NOT PROOF-READ I'M SORRY

_Jean, hello? Is that you on the line now? Oh, thank God._

An eyeroll. Thank God, he said.

_I’m so very, very sorry._

Of course, he is.

_You’re good with duckpin, right?_

Jean regrets the day he ever mentioned playing the sport.

_This is really important. Please._ Cough, cough. More coughs. Jean winces behind the line because it sounds like Armin might throw up a lung or two.

He’s not sure if that’s a part of his persuasion but it worked. He mentally kicks the part of himself who is a sucker for the weaker kind.

He should’ve endured the noises, told himself he heard nothing and close his eyes before slamming their house phone back in the receiver and pull the cable, just in case Armin calls again. He’s such a fucking pussy.

Now look where that got him.

It’s a Sunday, which means his mother will let him sleep in and wake up whenever he felt like it. She wouldn’t barge into his room like most days and bring him meals lest he miss lunch. He can’t miss meals, his Mama said. She’s so fucking annoying. Jean’s sixteen now, he doesn’t need her babying him anymore. He’s an adult now.

Anyway, back to Sunday. Yes, Sunday.

Sunday is his break from his Mama day. Well, his Sunday this week seems to be still following his preference, but there’s a catch.

He can have a break from his Mama’s annoying babying, but he had to baby someone else.

He doesn’t really mind though, he thinks he’s good with kids anyway. There are some weekends or after school hours when their neighbour who is a single parent, had to stay later for work and needs someone to look after their 5 and 7 year old. Too noisy and dirty, but Jean deals with them just fine.

The kids like him. Listens to whatever he says and behaves whenever he’s watching. Like they want to impress him, catch his attention.

But that’s not the case here this time.

Of all people that Armin had to meet with that day, it has to be Eren.

Why him? Why can’t be anyone else? Heck, he’ll even gladly accept to be in Mikasa’s company, if that means he can avoid Mama or Eren.

But no, it’s Eren.

Why him? Why, why, why?

To be honest, he has no problem with the kid whatsoever, but it seems like it was the other who has problems against him. From the intensity of the glare Eren sends him whenever they cross paths, he can approximate that’s it’s a lot.

He doesn’t understand why though.

He never messed with the guy, respected whatever opinion he had, never even cussed in front of him…but they way he looks, it makes Jean feel like he just jeopardized the fate of humanity.

Jean flinches the moment he sees Eren step into the bowling alley. When those big eyes met his, he shed bullets of cold sweat.

Is this going to end with another quarrel?

He better start composing an apology speech later at the phone for Armin, he thinks. Just in case.

Then he mentally kicks himself again for being such a softie. He’s too nice isn’t he? Marco said so. It was both a blessing and a curse, he said too. Armin must’ve known that’s why he was probably the number one guy to call in his list that morning. Damn.

The moment Eren’s eyes met his, Jean saw hesitation in his steps, but approached his seat anyway.

Jean remembered Armin telling him a few hours ago that he specified a certain lane for them to meet, so it won’t be a problem.

But the thing is, when Eren was close enough for Jean to hear, he told Jean, “What are you doing here?” Eren’s voice tired and unamused. Like it was just some horrible prank. A horrible prank Armin pulled. He hoped so too. Eren makes him jumpy and nervous, and he knows well why. But he’d rather die than admit it to anyone, or well, to Eren, most specifically.

‘Cause he’s probably too transparent, he knows that Marco knows, Armin knows, maybe even the rest of the kids who knew both Eren and Jean. Except Eren, because that boy’s stupid. He’s actually thankful Eren’s stupid, to be honest.

His train of thoughts come to a sudden stop when he notice Eren raise an eyebrow at him, prompting him to answer. So far so good, he thinks. Then he swallows. Jean opens his mouth and feels his voice quiver so he speaks louder, hoping to cover the quiver in his voice and to be heard properly against the noise of crashing pins and restating frames from nearby lanes. It’s suddenly too noisy.

“Didn’t Armin tell you?”

Eren furrows his brows at this, looks down and pulls out a mobile phone in his pocket. Makes those motions with his fingers indicating he’s scrolling through his contacts, maybe checking for unread messages and missed calls.

A few moments later, he looks back up to Jean, looking more confused than before, shrugging and showing his conversation thread and calls history with Armin.

There was nothing.

That coconut-headed asshat.

So far Eren is confused and looking at Jean as if he were his only salvation, and he supposes that that was better than getting ignored or anything else Eren does in his presence.

So swallows again, and formulates a legitimate sentence in his head, something that Eren would think was reasonable enough so they could do themselves both a favour and end this meeting without either of them rolling on the floor exchanging kicks and punches, because really, they’re adults now. Hitting each other is so elementary school. Jean’s sick of it.

Surprisingly, Eren listened. Nodded his head after his not-so-okay legitimate explanation and then moved to slouch on one of the seats beside Jean’s.

For a couple of minutes they just sat there unmoving, the sound of crashing pins and occasionally bowling balls slamming harshly on the lanes.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t Jean who broke the stifling air of awkwardness.

“Why are they small?” It doesn’t really sound like it was addressed to Jean, it was more like a question Eren was muttering to himself as he glares down the lanes. Eyes squinting when someone from a lane nearby makes a strike and the striker and their friends screams in awe, some clapping and others whoop.

Eren’s eyes move away from the lane to watch the striker’s group, face turning bitter. He slumps deeper into his seat, hands stuck inside his dark jacket and mutters again, voice bitter and rather arrogant. “What’s so special with getting a strike?”

Jean almost hears the _its easy_ following the words and feel his eyebrows raise.

“Ever bowled before, Jaeger?”

“Huh?”

Eren’s eyes looked deeper and the circle around them are dark, they look tired. Maybe the squinting thing isn’t because he’s bitter?

“Bowling.” Jean clarifies.

“I know what that means.” Was the reply and Eren’s eyes immediately dart to the opposite direction where Jean was. Okay, he’s scratching the tired theory. Eren’s actually feeling bitter today.

Not too long after that Eren perks up again, returns his look back at Jean’s and asks him, “Why are they small?” A hand still inside his jacket’s pocket moves to point at the lanes. _Oh_ , and he understands the confusion.

“Well, there’s actually two types of bowling. One is ten-pin---the one you’re probably used to see. The big ones.” He pauses, and when he see Eren nod in confirmation, he continues.

“And then there’s duck-pin,” Jean gestures at one of the lanes, the same lane where one of players got a strike. As if on cue, two pins get taken down and the two hears the group go “Aw”.

Eren gives them a look again, and asks Jean, “Why are they making such a big deal about hitting the pins?”

So Eren doesn’t really know the difference between the two, Jean supposes.

“That’s because its actually harder to score with duck-pins. Surface area and all that stuff.” He explains patiently, feels like he’s talking to the kids he used to babysit during his free time but with this one, he can freely go waving his hands in a “never mind that” gesture because unlike children, Eren could actually get “all that stuff”.

And Eren did. Except he seems to have confidence in himself and thinks these people are just not that good with the sport when he suddenly stood up and walked to the counters.

Jean jumped from his seat, ran to follow Eren, confusion written all over his face. “Hey, wait what are you doing.”

He was ignored.

“Open lanes 5 and 6 please.” He tells the person manning the register. He gets handed a sheet and he gives it a bewildered look for a moment before nodding to the person in the register and walking back to their seat. Jean gives Eren’s back a look of disbelief, pointing his retreating back to the person in the register who laughs at the obnoxious look Jean has at that moment and just waves at him to go follow his friend back and enjoy.

So they’re actually gonna do this.

Fucking Jaeger, suddenly he wants to play? To prove he’s better than all of them? Yeah, right. He snorts.

Sitting back to where he was before, he notices Eren wasn’t making a move yet. He’s still in his seat, staring at the scoresheet the register guy handed him earlier.

_Seriously?_

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to score?”

Eren gives him the look of a lost puppy.

“Seriously?”

“Well, usually there’s a big screen that tells the score. Is that what that slanted table was for?”

“Oh my God.”

* * *

They ended up bowling.

They played fifteen games and it could’ve been more if Jean’s mother didn’t start calling him, worried because its already past 6 when he promised he’ll be home as early as 5.

Eren did not look pleased. At all.

On his first try he immediately got into the canal, and that continued for at least three to five more frames. Then he’s at the brink of screaming when the ball kept on rolling sideways no matter how steady his throw was, always twisting his hand in emphasize when he tells Jean, who gets an eight or a nine. Occasionally, he gets a strike, spare, and a break too, which pisses Eren off more.

Eren got nothing to say though, since they switch lanes every two frames. Saying that Eren’s lane is the reason for his misses were out of the list.

Eren’s a “let’s play for one game, I’ll show theses amateurs what a real bowling is like” turned into “one more game, I think I get it now”.

Eren bowls a lot when he was younger, loved the sport. It helps him relax and it was something he does with his family, when his Dad wasn’t so busy as much as these days and his mother didn’t go travelling a lot.

Basically what he’s trying to say is that he’s pretty skilled himself.

When Armin asked him the other night to go visit a local bowling alley, he was elated.

Hell, elated was an understatement. He couldn’t stop thinking about this day the day after that, couldn’t sleep properly that night not because of the usual reasons but because he wanted the night to be over let the day happen already. He even brought his own ball for this.

Then imagine the surprise when he sees the lanes, the pins and the balls. _They’re tiny_. It felt wrong and he felt like a person in a strange land with people who spoke different languages.

Can’t say that wasn’t the case either. The culture shock (can it be called as such?) was intense not only from learning there are different types of bowling, but as well as the scoring rules, how it differs from ten-pin and how its not so different at all.

He thinks it was ridiculous how one is provided with three balls per frame until he realizes that the game is giving the player a handicap because _fuck its hard to control_.

One miss is annoying but a consecutive is just a punch to the gut.

He hated the feeling of getting beaten at his own game. And by Jean of all people is worse.

The first game ends with Jean the victor, scoring 105 whereas Eren got a 45.

Then he challenged Jean for another game and before he knew it they were in their fifteenth and Jean has to stop the game because his mother is getting worried.

Eren is still the loser. 15 out of 15 games the winner is Jean and it makes his blood boil.

They depart the bowling alley with Eren’s eyes glaring daggers at Jean’s retreating back.

Then without warning Jean turns to look back at him, then approach him in brisk steps it catches Eren off-guard.

“Oi, Jeager, what’s your problem now?”

_Huh?_

“H-huh?” Eren got surprised at the sudden assault, his voice squeaking. Jean’s brisk movements suddenly reminded his body what those brisk movements walking towards him associated it with.

Suddenly he feels small and his hands instinctively curl and he slips it immediately in his pockets, lest Jean notice. He braces for impact.

Except nothing came.

Jean was standing in front of him, not too close yet not too far to not hear his lowered voice.

“The glaring. What the hell did I do now? I won the game, big deal! You’re a first-timer, its normal to suck on your first try. You think I’m a fucking expert when I started? No, I sucked just as bad as you do. I just happened to play all the time. It’s called _practice_. Duck-pin is harder than ten-pin, Eren, so stop giving yourself a hard time like you’re the only who sucked at duck-pin. The world won’t care if you do and _heck_ , I’m better than you, so what? Why do you even hate me this much?”

Eren was left speechless, unable to find a retort when Jean spoke so fast. Thoughts ran in his head for miles per second.

He was still lost in his own world when Jean mutters a set of cusses under his breath, turning his head left and right in exasperation and walks away calmly. Eren manages to hear him say “I’m getting tired of you and you’re misplaced hate, to be honest. I don’t even know what A…”

He thinks, why did he hate Jean again?

Still standing his spot, mortified, _he doesn’t remember_.

* * *

He goes home with clothes damp because of his sweat.

His mother notices how he shivers underneath his jacket and takes it off for him. She scolds him, for walking around in shirts drenched in sweat, because the air is cold outside, he might catch something.

She points to his room, his jacket and shirt taken off of him, his sweaty back wiped off with his shirt. In her hands were his jacket and shirt and tells him to go take a bath. He might get sick.

So he did.

He has been thinking a lot lately. With the conversation that Armin seems to enjoy delaying and blurry memories. He’s never been the type to remember things too well, after all. But sometimes they feel strange. Like doing something that felt like he had always did in the past, things he know and do that he cannot explain to anyone where and how he learned them. There’s always tiny holes with missing pieces in his memory.

He yelps when he felt something poke his eye. It was sharp and painful and he cups a water with his hands to wash it off his eyes. Moving his eyes in a circular motion, he thinks it was probably an eyelash.

The mirror in the shower has gotten blurry due to steam, so he lathers soap in his hand and wipes the mirror down.

A swipe and he almost slips down the tiled floor when he sees him standing right behind him in the reflection. It was fleeting though, the moment he blinks the apparition is gone.

No baths for him then. His mother wouldn’t know.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no pictures today, sorry
> 
> also wait since I changed the summary (sort of), did everyone know this is the plot or...
> 
> I forgot to say that didn't I

**Author's Note:**

> believe it or not its /roughly/ based on this "real" ghost story I have read when I was I think 12 (when I was on that horror/paranormal phase and researched the shit out of ghosts and demons and all that crazy shit)
> 
> and right now I'm taking the chance to tell you that I don't know how make my characters happy in a normal way so get the hint (tho its already in the tags and warnings lol)
> 
> also if you're wondering how the fuck did I ever managed to remember something like that is to be blamed on my selective memory, I guess because I dunno how either


End file.
